


Rescue

by pentapus



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Violence, complicated family relationships, flashfic, mortal peril
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 16:15:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10517313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pentapus/pseuds/pentapus
Summary: “What did you give me?” Dick fell over again which was a bitch and half when Jason was trying to shoot.





	

“What did you give me?” Dick fell over again which was a bitch and half when Jason was trying to shoot. 

“I don't know, but it wasn't fear toxin,” Jason said. 

“You don't know?” Dick sounded pissed, which was a reward in itself. Dick liked to pretend that didn't happen, that half of Jason's problem was that he wasn't the _reasonable_ one. 

“I thought I knew at the _time,”_ Jason snarled. 

“You thought it was _fear toxin_?” Dick was starting to slur but no less indignant. No fear in his voice though, which under the circumstances wasn’t actually a good sign. Jason let him slide the rest of the way down the wall with a thump.

“You'd have had a fucking antidote once you got your shit back, ok?” And the schadenfreude would have gotten Jason through another week, watching Dick get a brainful of what Jason had gotten first hand, finally getting to be the spectator gloating and safe. “They thought I was giving you a lethal injection, so you're welcome. Fuck, I was going to give you the antidote myself as soon as --” 

The door slammed open. Red Robin was standing in the doorway, one sleeve in ribbons, which was impressive given the armor Bats and Dickface made him wear. He was limping, and he smelled terrible.

They froze, staring at each other. Jason felt his whole body shift, realigning to 6ft-plus of cold and dangerous. It was easy to forget sometimes with Dick, the asshole insisting on treating Jason like the baby brother Jason _had never been._ But this kid was a total stranger, and Jason didn't owe him anything.

He pointed his gun at the same spot he'd shot the kid last year. He wasn't gonna do it again, but the kid didn't know that.

“Red,” Dick said, relieved. “Good, you’re… here...” He trailed off, unfocused.

“Why is he on the floor?” the kid asked, and he almost managed to sound dangerous instead of confused.

Jason gritted his teeth. “Weren't you supposed to be dead in a croc-infested sewer?” Fucking Dick, dragging him here with false promises.

“I got out,” Replacement said coldly. Then his mouth dropped open. “Wait. Are you _rescuing_ me?”

Jason had the gun cocked before he'd even thought about it, his vision going dark at the edges, all his hackles coming up with the force of the _fuck you_ he felt. Before he could find out kind of man he was today, he yanked the gun to the side and fired three times into the wall beside the door.

“Red Robin,” Dick said, “hey, would you -- would you wait outside?”

Jason liked that, that Dick thought he was a threat and not just a child throwing a tantrum, but he didn’t like that Dick seemed to think Jason wasn't going to hurt _Dick._ As if all Jason's bad decisions beyond the grave didn't come with the motto _challenge accepted._

“What'd they give you?” Replacement asked, not looking in any hurry to leave. He turned to Jason: “What'd they give him?”

Jason barked a laugh. He couldn’t decide if he was pissed or grateful the kid didn’t assume Jason had done it. “It was mislabeled. You got a chem kit?”

Huh, _that_ look of horror came through the cowl nicely, didn’t it. 

It was appropriate. Unlabeled drugs were no joke, but Jason wasn't thinking straight enough to really take that in, hadn't been since Dick’s frantic call had tricked him into thinking of Tim Drake as another bloody Robin suit, crumpled somewhere in the dark on an unknown square of concrete.

Jason took his own chem kit out of his pockets, chucked it at the Replacement's chest, already climbing out the window. They were on their own, and good fucking luck.

Dick texted 36 hours later like they did that now and not just when Bruce’s new toys went missing. A simple: _every1 ok thx._ Jason didn't reply, but he didn't burn the number either.

**Author's Note:**

> A flashfic written for [Firefright](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefright/pseuds/firefright)'s prompt of "First experiences", in this case, the first time Jason doesn't want to shoot Tim.


End file.
